Author's Note: This chapter has very little redeeming value, consisting of approximately 10% plot and 90% nonsense, and is emphatically not safe for work. You're welcome. Also, linear time is for suckers. If you're trying to follow the events of that last hour on Yavin IV, go back and reread the prelude, then return to this chapter.


Interlude III: Liminal Space

Odessen
21 ATC

As the door to the corridor slides closed Lana's footsteps fade into silence, and then she is alone.

Nine yawns, stretching out again to full length with arms above her head, fingertips brushing the armrest of the couch. The more she thinks about it, she really ought to call Theron; much as he'd dissembled, he'd clearly had something he'd wanted to tell her. Her portable holo's across the room, though, sitting on the bedside table, and the main projector can't see her here. Moving sounds distinctly unappealing, but-

Ugh.

All right, then.

She rolls off the cushions and stands, locking the main door, then circles around to her workstation; dragging the chair along with her to the projector table, she activates the holo with a tap of one finger.

"Transmitter, open channel to Theron Shan."

It's half past three in the morning, Galactic Standard Time, and he answers on the second ring.

"Hey, you. I wondered if you were going to call." Theron's not on his shuttle's bridge now, at least. To judge by what she can see behind him he's sitting on the bed in the tiny cabin, jacket off, a mug of caf cupped in both hands and a datapad on the blanket in front of him; when the connection solidifies he looks up toward the camera with a smile. "Thought you might have fallen asleep. Is Lana still there?"

"No. She's off to bed, though she promised to speak to Koth in the morning."

He nods. "Whatever happened, it must have been bad to take that long to talk through. Or you two are plotting all our demises. Should I be worried?"

She grins as he sips at the caf. "You know I was only teasing about the whole 'men are inferior' thing."

"I've learned the hard way never to assume. Seriously, though-" Theron sets the mug aside, shifting out of frame for a moment as he leans toward the bedside table- "everything's okay over there?"

"It will be, I think." Kicking her shoes off, she props her feet up on the table and settles back into the chair.

"Did she tell you what happened? Like I said, I got some weird looks from Koth back when I first got to Asylum but I didn't get the sense they were together back then."

She shakes her head. "They weren't. Or rather, they had been, sort of, but Lana had second thoughts. Then when she took him to Ziost-"

"She did what?" Theron sits up straighter on the bed. "Why?"

"You've heard Koth talk about Valkorion."

"Yeah, but Koth's Zakuulan. Kind of like listening to your average Imperial talk about the Emperor, amplified by a hundred- he was pretty literally a god to them, you know? That mindset's pretty common on Zakuul even now." He shrugs, wrinkling his nose. "I heard it enough while we were looking for you that I learned to tune it out, I guess, but I know it drives Lana crazy."

(One can sustain oneself for a very long time, Valkorion murmurs, on worship.

He's a shadow in the corner of her vision and she tries to push him out into the light.

"You killed a planet, you liar." Her lip curls. "You drained them dry while another part of you sat on your damned throne. So much for sustenance."

On Zakuul I was diminished. He folds his arms across his chest. Though I had forgotten how much so until I was free of my prison, and then- well. Sacrifice went out of style centuries ago, I'm afraid.)

When she comes back to herself Theron's staring at her, his head tilted to one side. "You're sure you're okay? You look-"

"I'm fine. Only tired." It's a little terser than she meant it and she forces a smile, interlacing her fingers behind her head. "And yes, you're right. Lana thought Ziost would snap him out of it, but it backfired. Pretty spectacularly."

He winces. "And that was-"

"More or less."

"Shit."

"Yes." She wrinkles her nose. "We'll see how it goes tomorrow. If I comm you and you hear screaming, though, consider that your warning to keep clear."

Theron laughs and reaches down to shut off the datapad; at this angle she can't read its screen. "Noted."

"What was it you were going to tell me earlier? I know you said it wasn't important, but-"

"Two updates- nothing actionable yet, but I thought you'd want to know. First off, you remember the turrets on top of the Ternion building?"

With a groan, she rocks forward in her chair again, feet settling on the floor. "Of course I remember. We can't get the Fortress shield down until we take them out, and we've tried an airdrop and a building scale and we still-"

"We can cut the power." Grinning, Theron gestures excitedly as he speaks. "On all the other shield generators, the turrets run off power from the shield facilities themselves. Turns out they got sloppy on Nar. They're running the turrets off the Ternion power supply."

Her eyes widen. "Find us a way inside that building. The Hutts'll fuss about the outage, but I'll chew through that conduit myself if I have to. If we can get the blockade down in Hutt Space Oggurobb can call in some favors. We'll have enough resources to keep things going for months and months."

"Already working on it- I should have a list of all the tenants by the end of the week. It's mostly corporate, but there must be some connection we can use."

"Clever boy." When she says it he sits up a little straighter, a spark of pride flashing in his eyes for a moment. (She wonders how often he heard praise like that as a child. Not very often, she thinks, for it to please him so.) "What was the other thing?"

"I've finally got a solid lead on Doctor Lokin."

She blinks. "What? Where?"

"Alderaan," he says. "There've been reports of rakghouls there for nearly a year, but I thought they were pranks or drunks at first until I got a few good cam shots this week. Those are definitely rakghouls. Tame as nerfs, just wandering around this ranch- which just happened to have been recently acquired by a man with a Kaas City accent."

"That's got to be him. He always kept at least one around for research purposes. Have we made contact?"

"Not yet." Theron shakes his head. "I thought you should do the honors, all things considered. I'll send the coordinates. I could detour there on my way back from Coruscant, though, if you need me."

She nods, considering. The rakghouls weren't likely to pose too much of a problem- she knows her way around them well enough after Taris- but Lokin might have decided to leave the game for good and if he had- "I'll let you know, but I may take you up on that. You're really still not going to tell me what's on Coruscant that's so important?"

"If it works out, I'll tell you. I promise." He makes a face at her as she tries to look stern. "If it doesn't, it might be better if you don't know. Call it plausible deniability."

She sighs. "Damn it, Theron-"

"I know, okay? Look, I-" he stops himself short, reaching out for his caf cup again, taking a sip to buy himself a moment to think. (Someone else might have thought him just thirsty. She knows him better than that; more to the point, it's a trick she's used a thousand times herself.) "It'll be fine. Trust me."

Rubbing her eyes, she leans forward until her elbows rest on the holotable. "I'm holding you to that."

"I'd expect nothing less." Theron quirks a smile at her, conciliatory. "No more gossip about Lana, then? That was a pretty short recap for a story that took-" he glances up, at the chrono she knows is on the far wall of the cabin- "six-odd hours."

"No, you vulture," she snorts. "I promised her I wouldn't. Besides, we barely spent two talking about Koth. Most of that time we were talking about you."

He chokes on a sip of caf.

"About us, technically."

Still sputtering around the caf, his eyebrows raised, he raises one hand in a gesture- Explain.

"We were remembering that first year, when we all worked together. Lana didn't quite understand how you and I went from sniping at each other on Manaan- not literally, of course- to what she got a glimpse of on Yavin. Apparently-" she stifles a yawn; oh, that caf looks good but she'd have to get up to go to the mess and she doesn't want it that badly- "we managed to sneak around fairly effectively."

"Hard to believe, isn't it? I mean, we're both pretty good at sneaking," he says, grinning as she winks exaggeratedly at him, "but I was pretty sure we were going to get completely busted at some point. Between that cave, my tent, the storage shed-"

"The time we made out on top of the watchtower like affection-starved teenagers?"

Theron laughs. "It's not like there was anything in eyeshot to watch out for. But yeah, that too. And the shuttle- wait." He tilts his head, shifting his legs beneath him on the bed. "How much did you tell her, exactly?"

"Only the vaguest outlines, don't worry- I don't kiss and tell, unless certain unnamed Sith are accidentally reading my mind. Though I'll admit it's a good thing she wasn't doing that today-" another yawn, her hand over her mouth- "stars, sorry- while I was remembering. She's had enough trauma for this week."

"Probably true." He gestures toward the back of her quarters, toward the bed. "But you should sleep. Anything else can wait until tomorrow."

"So should you."

Lifting his mug toward the projector, Theron shrugs. "'m good. Got reports to catch up on, and like I said before, I don't sleep well shipboard."

"Liar. You've fallen asleep just fine when we've traveled together." (Only a few times, even now- with a larger crew they keep to separate cabins- but when her nightmares woke her he was always there.)

"You wear me out when we're traveling together."

"No better cure for insomnia. So now you know- if you want to sleep," she smirks, pushing back from the table, "you ought to bring me with you."

Although- hm. Keeping details back from Lana hadn't kept the memories at bay and despite her tiredness she's still restless, wanting; if he were here she'd-

Now there's an idea.

Theron's already starting to protest again as she turns her back to the projector, pulling her shirt over her head in one swift movement before looking backward over her shoulder. "But as you said-" he quiets at the motion- "I should go to bed."

"I did say that."

Her trousers go next, wriggled down over her hips with far more effort than technically required, and she bends at the waist to slide them down her calves onto the floor. Straightening up, stepping out of them, she starts toward the stairs up toward the bed. "I suppose I will, then. Seeing as how you're already there, you could join me if you like."

"I'm not sleep-" he starts to say, eyes tracking her as she moves, then sets both cup and datapad away out of frame with a broad grin. "You really are trying to make me sorry for being gone, aren't you?"

"Am I?"

"Mm-hm."

When she reaches the top of the stairs the holocam chimes, no longer able to keep focus on her face given distance and angle; catching up her portable holo, she transfers the call and lets the device hover in the air next to her. By the time Theron flickers back into focus she's turned, hands behind her back, working the hooks open and slipping her arms out of the straps, letting her bra dangle from one fingertip as she stands in profile. "I'm only changing. It's not my fault if you've got a guilty conscience."

"Not sure I'd call that changing." His voice's gone rougher, though, teasing, matching hers.

She lets it fall. "I've never been fond of nightclothes, as you're well aware. Too constricting."

"That wasn't true on Rishi. I'd have remembered."

"I hadn't realized you were paying such close attention." (A lie: she had. They were both guilty of a great number of sidelong glances back then, but they'd all taken turns changing in the safe house's single tiny 'fresher.) "But we were all sleeping in the same room. Wouldn't have been proper." Her undergarments join the rest of her clothing on the floor; she takes another few steps toward the bed, guiding the holo along with a wave of her hand.

"Couldn't have that." He grins. "Unlike now."

As she sinks back into the pillows she lets her hair down, settles the holo at the foot of the bed, looking up at his image. "Unlike now. Though you could at least give me something to look at."

Theron tilts his head until she gestures impatiently, then pulls his shirt over his head with a soft chuckle. "If it'll help you sleep."

"Oh, I'll sleep," she murmurs, and bends her knees just a little, letting her right hand drift down between her thighs. "Eventually."

His breath catches in his throat and ah, stars, the way he looks at her reminds her so much of Yavin-


(He doesn't resist when she pulls him down, curling in on himself gracefully to settle next to her, propped up on one side and reaching out for her already. They've both still got their weapons, though; her rifle's pressed into her back and she arches to slide it free of its clips, setting it aside against the wall along with her holdout and her blade and after a moment he does the same, unfastens his belt and peels off his jacket and, beneath that, a buckled holster she doesn't remember him wearing before, a little blaster nestled between his shoulder blades until she helps him out of it.

It's hard not to laugh, looking at it all- enough weapons for a full team between the two of them, probably, like they're ready for war. In an hour they will be.

She doesn't care. For one more hour she can be selfish, can do what she wants and not what she's told. For one more hour all she wants is him.

Theron reaches for her again, pulls her in close with one hand behind her head and the other at the small of her back, and she catches his lower lip between her teeth.)


She keeps focus on the holo, on him, watching him, tracing slow deliberate circles with the pads of her fingers. She knows her body, knows its responses; on edge as she is already after the evening's remembrances, it would be a matter of a minute to bring herself off- probably less. But that won't do at all tonight. Not for this, half desire and half performance-

"Tell me-" he says after a moment, gaze roaming hungry down her body, from her face to her pointed toes, from her breasts to the neat row of faint red scratches left by the drag of her left hand along her inner thigh- "tell me what you're thinking about."

"You," she whispers, and means it. It's not the first time she's laid herself bare before a camera's lens for another person's pleasure, not by a long shot, but the only time that she's said that when it's actually been true. "Theron, do you remember-"


(Fifty-two minutes.

More like forty, really, if they leave themselves time enough at the end to dress and make it back to the shuttles, but it's- Force, it's an eternity compared to what they've had.

Even so, she's shrugging off her jacket as he works blindly at her waistband, breaking apart just long enough for her to lift his shirt over his head.

How do you want- he starts to say as she closes the space between them with another kiss, nudging him onto his back; she works her way, inch by inch, down the side of his throat, the angle of one collarbone (a small irregularity, artifact of some childhood injury, beneath her mouth at its center; she presses an extra kiss against it) and the center line of his chest and belly, along old scars and new ones as he shifts restlessly beneath her.

Given your previous response to the idea- her teeth rasp against his hipbone as she pushes his trousers out of the way- I thought I'd start here.

The sound he makes when her lips part around him-)


She curls her fingers through her hair, pulling tight, eyes closing, a mimicry of Theron's touch. Her heartbeart's pounding in her ears but still, over the noise of it, she can hear him.

"Like I could forget- stars, Nine-"

Quieter than his voice, the sound of metal on metal, the rustle of fabric and then a soft little moan; when she forces her eyes open again she smiles, wicked, and runs the tip of her tongue along her upper lip.

"And then I-"


(Even arching against her mouth despite himself he's still trying to sit up, urging her back gently until she pulls away and settles upright, straddling one of his legs.

Not yet. Not- he pauses for a moment, catching his breath, as she tilts her head in a silent question.

Theron twists, then, loops an arm around her waist and rolls her along with him until she's pinned between the floor and his body. The metal grate's cool against her shoulders, against her back as her shirt rides up; it's cool other places, too, when he starts to draw her pants down over her thighs.

I know we called it even, but I think I still owe you, he says, pausing at her boots, a little bit. I may need your help, though.

She grins. I don't take my trousers off for just anyone, you know. What if we have to make a run for it?

You can use my jacket. As she squirms, laughing, one foot against the other to wriggle out of her boots, he mouths at her breast through the fabric and works his way lower, tracing a lazy, winding path with his tongue down the newly exposed skin.

You and your chival-

She only gets half the word out before he's on his knees, teeth nipping at her inner thighs, one and then the other and if last night he was eager, today he's-

Hm? Theron looks up at her, the sound vibrating against her cunt until it's all she can do not to scream and instead she clutches blindly at him, catching a handful of his hair as he parts her with hands and tongue. You'll have to say that again, he murmurs as she writhes, hips pressed hard against his mouth, gasping and swearing and Void damn him- I didn't quite hear you.)


"I couldn't see you that first time, in the dark," he says, an unnecessary explanation, settling back against the headboard as the camera angle shifts and he adjusts himself- self-conscious for a moment, she suspects. "I didn't think we'd ever have another chance, and I wanted-"

"I know." Letting her legs fall open wider- what must she look like to him, sprawled wanton across the blanket with her fingers darting swift-slick in and out and around, patterns from a memory she's relived a hundred times? By the way he watches her, the tension easing from his shoulders as she looks him up and down in frank appreciation (he's beautiful, truly, even in the harsh cabin light) she thinks she knows; oh, she wishes he was here- she sinks her teeth into her lip. "I don't recall complaining. I only- I-"


(Come here.

When she beckons he makes his way back up her body, heat and weight against her and a fierce kiss when he draws level. Her legs are trembling, still, from holding herself so tense; Theron kisses her again and again and again.

I've decided- one word in each of the spaces between kisses, all the breath she can spare- I may have to take you hostage. We'll use my quarters shipboard as a cell. A billion credits ransom, I think.

You'll be stuck with me forever, then. I doubt I'm worth anywhere near that much to the Republic.

Suddenly he rolls, pulling her along with him, settling on his back with her astride and his hands on her hips. She rocks forward, rising up; he cants himself up to meet her, still hard beneath her touch when she reaches back to guide him inside her (a trait she appreciates in him even now, that her own pleasure rouses him so).

Good, she gasps, sinking down, his nails biting in as she starts to move. Good.)


-and that is enough.

Her toes curl, her touch roaming over her belly, her throat, her breasts, catching one nipple between her fingers and teasing at it (it was his mouth, then, not his hands, but it will have to serve). Theron knows the language of her body well enough by now, not even two months on; their voices blend together, her panting little moans, muted by necessity, and his encouragements.

"There," he says, "there, Nine- come on, sweetheart, show me-"

He's never called her that before- oh, Force-

(No one's ever called her that before and meant it.)


(She rides him, then, slow and deliberate, grinding down on him with one hand splayed against his chest, and when he tries to rush the pace she grins and shakes her head and goes even slower until he practically growls and she-

-skin against skin, barely moving now, and his teeth on her throat-

-her hands on his, holding him down, as his fingers lace through hers-

-there, he says in her ear, there- ah, please.)


When she can breathe again she opens her eyes.

"Sorry. I-" Theron's blushing, a incongruous shyness playing around his mouth until he sees her smile. "I wasn't sure if-"

"Don't. I liked it." She glances down, at his hand still wrapped around his cock. "As if you couldn't tell."

His blush deepens.

"You can call me anything that you like, darling," she murmurs. (They haven't talked their way through this, any of this, though she's used the endearment for him before- like him, in an unguarded moment. They aren't any good at this, but they are trying.) "Though I'm reserving veto rights. For now, though, will you do something for me?"

He nods, and a new knot of want tightens low in her belly.

"If you miss me," she says, letting the movement of her hands clarify her meaning, "show me."


(Will you tell me your name, at least? They're still tangled in each other on the shuttle floor, half-dressed and out of breath, with twenty minutes to spare before the end of the truce. He props himself up on one elbow.

I've already told you, she stretches, languid, kicking his jacket free of where it landed on her right boot and shrugging her trousers back up over bare skin, my name is Cipher Nine.

Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. No nicknames? Anything? Theron looks, she thinks, genuinely curious.

You can call me Nine, I suppose. Her hair's come loose too, messy around her shoulders, and she tilts her chin to her chest to gather it back into its usual bun. Why does it matter? We won't exactly be on a nickname basis soon.

It still seems rude not to know what you like to be called, all things considered, so I thought I should ask. For next time.

She arches a brow and shifts onto her side, facing him. Next time? While I wouldn't object, whatever happened to 'we'll probably never see each other again'- unless I've managed to change your mind? Her kiss is a question, too, although a different one.

Still no, he says against her mouth, and we probably won't. But- in reply he slides his free hand around and along the curve of her waist, undoing half her progress in reclothing herself with one swift movement- we do still have nineteen minutes.

Mm. Her arms slide around his neck as she settles back, hips tilting with the pressure of his fingertips. Plenty of time.)


"Nine," he says again, eyes wide, "oh-"


(Fourteen minutes until the end of the truce,now. Fourteen minutes to get him out of her system.

Not long enough.

She thought he might be too gentle this last time out of sentiment, but she was wrong- Theron fucks her hard and fast as her legs wrap around his waist and she's going to have the imprint of the floor embedded in her ass for days, she bets. Then again, he will, too; she can feel the narrow indentations from the metal grate, neat even lines precisely spaced, as she rakes her fingernails down his back.

She hadn't meant to mark him, but even so he hisses against her mouth and his next thrust makes her flinch a little, drives her down against the floor. It isn't pain, not really- not in a way that bothers her, at least; when he sees it in her face, though, he slows, falling out of rhythm. By way of apology one of his hands tangles in her hair, pulling her head to one side, baring her throat to a row of kisses pressed one after another in time with the beating of her heart.

It isn't what she wants.

Harder. It comes out more a whine than a word, buried somewhere in the noises she can't help but make. Damn it, Theron-

He stops completely, then, looking down at her with a slight shake of his head. I don't want to hurt you.

You won't. She scrabbles with one hand for something to tuck beneath her back, hooking his shirt with her index finger and pulling it beneath her. No pillow, but it will do. You won't. (A lie; he might. But if he does it will be because she wants him to.)

Theron nods.

And then he lifts her ankles over his shoulders, pins her arms above her head with one of his hands wrapped around her wrists and she wouldn't have thought he had it in him but-

She grits her teeth.

Oh, that's better.)


She's close again but he's closer- he can't keep focus on her though she can tell he's trying, his teeth sunk into his lip and his breathing heavy- and she keeps talking, a steady rhythm with her words to match the strokes of his hand, whispering things she remembers, things she wants, things she'd do if he were here.

For once Theron is louder than her, her name on his lips as he comes, spilling over his hand. The sight of him's enough to push her over the edge; her head falls back onto the pillows, free hand fisted in the blankets beside her, back arching against the bed. For a moment it's agony. Still coming down from her first orgasm, her body's overstimulated, hovering just on the verge with her nerve endings humming electric-

-and then it breaks, and the world goes white.


(She can barely move.

Theron's heavy against her chest but that's got nothing to do with it. Her muscles just won't cooperate. She blinks, once and then again; focusing her eyes is difficult with him so close, still caught up in kisses, his touch careful on her face.

They lie there together for another minute, catching their breath, until he shifts and they both sigh.

Nine? You okay? He props himself up on his elbows.

Mm.

Is that a yes?

She nods, and manages to get one leg to unlock itself despite the cramp in her foot. Mm-hm.

I've rendered you speechless, he says after a second, grinning against her mouth, helping her unwind herself from around his body. Didn't think that was possible.

I'll think of a comeback. Just give me a- Her other leg's cramping, too, and- oh, Void take everything. Wait. How long do we have?

He check his chrono. Nine minutes.

She swears and reaches beneath her for his shirt.

They help each other dress, sorting through the pile of their mingled clothing- she pulls a cleaning-cloth out of a pouch, when she finds her belt, and hands it to him; it takes her three tries to fasten her jacket properly and he forgets his harness at first, fumbling with the buckle when he finally remembers.

Seven minutes.

You can make it if you run, she says, slotting her rifle into its holster, before she reaches back down beneath the floor panels to disengage the shuttle's emergency protocols. I'll reset the system and go once you've cleared the archway.

Yeah. That's-

He helps her up to her feet and then they're toe to toe, standing together. On impulse she reaches up, cupping his face in her hands. Be well, Theron, and be careful. Please.

You, too. And I'm always careful. She'd almost believe it, but his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. See you in the ops reports, right?

Not if we're lucky.

One last kiss. No-

One more, just for luck, and she opens the door.

Six minutes.

Now, she says, run.)


She opens her eyes to see him yawning.

"Not bored, I hope," she murmurs archly- then yawns herself and makes a face at him, covering her mouth with her hand.

Theron laughs, shaking his head. "No," he says, and his smile is sweet and sleepy. "Tired."


Up next: Kinship, in which we see two reunions. Only one goes well.

Rather a broken record at this point, but apologies for the lengthy delay. I think I'm back in the writing groove, now, after a few weeks where I couldn't quite see my way to it.